


One More Second Chance

by tishseven



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tishseven/pseuds/tishseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Grayson is back in the circus, performing a one night only show with Boston Brand aka Deadman. Batman does not approve. When tragedy strikes will Dick be able to solve his own murder or will Bruce and Boston kill each other first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A soft breeze carried the smell of cotton candy and elephant shit over the midway. It did little to ease Bruce's anxiety. If it were Batman   
strolling past the carnival games and concession stands he would have been able to ignore the human sense most strongly linked to   
memory and kept the emotion it triggered under control. But it was Bruce Wayne who moved through the crowd and it was Bruce Wayne who remembered. 

The night the Flying Grayson's were murdered was neither his first nor last trip to the circus but it was the one that stood out the most in his mind. He found he could never visit a carnival or big top without reliving the tragedy. He didn't realize that he had stopped walking and was staring at the late summer sunset pensively. 

"Master Bruce, I am compelled to point out that such heavy brooding in public may be compromising to your identity. At the very least a less depressing facial expression would go a long way toward blending in with our current surroundings, "Alfred gestured to the smiling families, carnies and performers around them.

Bruce sighed and began walking again, knowing Alfred was referring to the conversation he had with Dick several days before. He hadn't forbidden Dick from participating in this stunt. He had merely stated his disapproval and his concern that performing in public may rouse suspicion regarding Dick's Nightwing persona. 

"It's not just himself he puts at risk when he steps into the spotlight like this," he said as they neared the main tent. "The costume alone is a red flag."

Bruce nodded toward a colorful poster that graced the side of the big top. It pictured two men swinging from a trapeze. One was dressed in a full red leotard and a white mask that resembled a death's head. The other had on a similar outfit in blue but his face was not hidden and he grinned broadly at the world while large block letters proclaimed:

Hills Bros. Circus Proudly Presents  
The Amazing Deadman Aerialist Extraordinaire  
Performing Alongside  
Richard Grayson  
The Last of the Legendary Flying Grayson's  
One Show Only

"Master Dick's background is not unknown, sir. I doubt anyone will think it odd that he should wear his father's costume tonight," said Alfred, well aware that was not the only reason for the other man's dark mood.

"It's still a risk," Bruce huffed. " Besides I don't like Brand."

Alfred glanced at the man in red on the poster. Deadman was stage name of Boston Brand who had recently inherited the one ring circus and was determined to make it succeed. He was also an old friend of the Grayson family. Since their short meeting a few hours ago Alfred suspected he would not be such a favorite in the Wayne home.

"In any case sir, I do believe they are getting ready to begin. Shall we find our seats?"

Bruce knew that this was not a request and followed his valet to the turnstile at the entrance without argument. The sudden roar of the crowd and the roaming spotlights were disorientating at first but they quickly recovered and found their seats. 

When Bruce looked into the empty center ring he imagined he could see a small boy, hunched over and crying as if his heart were breaking. He looked away and it was gone. That boy was now a man but it still troubled Bruce to see him in any pain. Since that night he had gone to great lengths to keep it from happening again. 

Without shifting his gaze he leaned toward the man next to him and said, "I worry, Alfred."

"I know you do, sir," Alfred said patting his hand. "But it will mean the world to him that you did come tonight."

Bruce raised his eyebrows but before he could respond the lights dimmed and the ringmaster's voice boomed throughout the tent. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Hills Brothers Circus of Wonders!"

Bruce and Alfred rose to their feet with the rest of the crowd and added their applause to the hundreds of patrons. Bruce even managed a small, sideways smile at Alfred but inside he could still not shake the feeling of foreboding that had been nagging him all afternoon. Dick was in the circus again and, even though it was only for one night, Bruce was afraid it would somehow cause the young man pain again. 

It was a superstitious thought but stillBruce Wayne would be happier when Dick Grayson left the flying to Nightwing. At least then Batman could keep his eye on him.


	2. Chapter 2

BANG BANG BANG

“Still in there, kid? I said you could borrow my trailer not keep it until the next millennium. Come on out Buddy and don’t tell me you've been combing your hair this whole time, neither.”

Inside Dick Grayson snorted trying to stifle his laughter. He didn't want to encourage more insults or worse yet, humor from the man waiting outside. Not that it mattered. When he failed to get a response Boston Brand took to rattling the latch on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Boston. Jeez give me a minute,” Dick yelled. 

“Ain’t got all night, kid. We got a hungry crowd out there, I can feel it,” Boston flicked his cigarette away, watched it land and made sure each tiny ember burnt itself out. “Hey in case I forget to mention it, thanks Dick.I mean it. We would have been in a bad spot tonight without you. Half the troop has got this damned bug. Not just the performers either. We had to set up today three guys short. All of them laid out in their trailers, puking their guts out and useless. “

Finally the door opened and Dick emerged grinning from ear to ear in one of his father’s old costumes. 

“Ta daaa. How do I look?”

In the dim light of electric lantern that was clipped to the side of the trailer Boston thought he could have been looking at Johnny Grayson himself. It was almost like seeing a ghost. He shivered a little in evening breeze even though it was still a warm night. He got over it quick though, that kid’s smile was infectious. 

“Hey how about that, huh? Your very picture of your old man Dickey.”

Dick’s grin grew wider, “Really? You think so? Oh and no thanks are necessary, Boston. Dad always said that you were a real stand up guy. So what was that big favor you did for him back in the day anyway?”

“Hey that’s between me,” Boston pointed to the big white D on the front of his costume and then to the sky, “and your pops. So don’t worry about it. Just because I asked you to do this tonight doesn't mean I’m trying to collect on a debt or anything. You know that right?”

“I know. Don’t get so serious big guy.” Dick held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t forget that you owe me one now.”

Boston wrapped an arm around Dick’s neck in a light headlock and began dragging him toward the performer’s entrance at the back of the big top. The echoes of their laughter danced in the night air. 

A member of the crew watched them approach and waited for Boston’s signal to lift the flap near the bottom of the tent so the performers could slide under unnoticed by the crowd.

Boston paused and turned to Dick, “Don’t forget we do things my way tonight kid. We start at the top on the platform. When you hear your cue start right into your swing. The spotlight will catch us there for the double double loop. “

“You got it, boss. I’m ready.”

Normally it was part of the act to have the acrobat’s climb to the top platform in full view of the audience. It added to the suspense. But normal was’nt Boston’s style. He had told Dick that he liked to get right to it. Leap into the spotlight before the crowd knew what hit them. It created mystique, he said. The irony was not lost on Dick and he wondered if Bruce realized that he and Boston actually had something in common. It may have been for two very different reasons but they both felt strongly about the image they projected. One as Deadman, the other as Batman. 

Boston nodded, “All set Benny.” 

Once inside they were careful to move slowly and stay out of the spotlight as they made their way their positions. The act was well planned so that they would have plenty of time to get into place. The Hills Bros. clown show provided a brightly colored and loud distraction in the center ring. No one was looking at the darkened sides of the tent as Dick grasped the silken rope ladder with both arms and pulled himself up to the first rung. He couldn't help himself and quickly scanned the audience before continuing. 

“Looking for Wayne, Kid?” Boston said in a low voice behind him. 

“Yeah. Hey I know you guys didn't get off on the right foot this afternoon but he was trying to help.”

“Listen Dick, I knew your family and you know the business. We help each other out and that’s the nature of the beast. But I’ll be damned if I need some rich guy’s charity to…”

Boston stopped when he noticed the grin had slipped from Dick’s face. 

“Okay I’m sorry. He means a lot to you I get it. I dunno why but I get it. I’ll play nice if our paths ever cross again. Will that make you happy?”  
He was rewarded with a smirk that didn't belie the happiness underneath.

“Good. Now get moving and don’t screw up,” he said but Dick was already halfway to the top.

Boston shook his head and slipped between the panels of a rolling set piece that would carry him unseen across the center and to the rope at the opposite side of the tent. 

After Dick had reached the top and climbed out onto the tiny platform he paused and took a deep breath. He still had a few minutes to give Boston time to get to his side and let the clowns make their exit. Despite the height and the darkness he found himself trying to make out Bruce or Alfred in the crowd. 

He very much wanted Bruce to see him perform tonight. He knew Bruce thought he was jeopardizing the mission. And even though he couldn't admit it to Boston he had been just as pissed off when Bruce had offered to pay for the circus’ losses. Like he was trying to buy Dick out of the show. He had never expected that. Not from Bruce. 

He had been acting strange ever since Dick first brought up the whole circus thing.

But none of that changed the fact that he still wanted, almost needed Bruce to be here. For all that Bruce had taught him this was one thing that was entirely his. He probably wouldn't get another chance to show off for his surrogate father but it was more than that. He was'nt just a soldier tonight. There were no lives that had to be saved, no villains to apprehend, no distractions. 

And maybe he would be proud. Not because an objective had been met but maybe this way Bruce would see him. Really see him

He was not the only son in history who would seek his father’s approval over and over again.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, please direct your eyes skyward…” The voice of the ringmaster interrupted his thoughts.

Dick grasped the bar with one hand and got ready…

Okay. Now

Just before he stepped out into the air something in the crowd caught his eye. Does that guy have a hook for a hand? And a gun? Then he let all his thoughts fly away so that his muscles and gravity could do their job without waiting for his brain to catch up. He was dimly aware of a blur of red rushing toward him as he began to spin and spin and spin on a cushion of air. 

BANG

He expected to feel his body straighten as he reached for the bar but instead the world exploded in a bright flash of pain. Then he was falling down and and down and down.


	3. Chapter 3

One second after he heard the gunshot Bruce Wayne was on his feet. As Dick Grayson was falling through the air he was halfway to the ring. When the body slammed full force into the sawdust floor he had reached the ground level. And before the dust settled Bruce had the young man in his arms.

He’s all bloody and …dead? Dick is dead? Bruce felt his world rock. Batman would have checked Nightwing’s vitals, demanded a status report which surely would have roused the young hero from unconsciousness, and swiftly returned to the batcave for much needed medical assistance and a safety lecture.

But Bruce Wayne found he could not summon the Batman and this was not Nightwing. It was Dick and Dick was already dead. Unacceptable, his mind whispered and he clung to that thought as tightly as he did to the body he was holding. For several moments there was nothing else.

Slowly he became aware of someone kneeling beside him moaning, “Oh god…kid…Dick…what happened…oh fuck.”

It was Brand.

Bruce felt a white hot rage grow inside him. This was Brand’s fault. Dick would not be here if Brand hadn’t coerced him. Bruce’s money wasn’t good enough. Brand had to have Dick. And now Brand’s circus had taken Dick from him. He gently lowered the boy to ground, folding his arms over the small chest wound.

Then Bruce stood up and launched himself at Brand.

Boston heard the familiar crunch of his own nose being broken. He had spent almost as much time in the boxing ring as he had in the circus ring and reacted instinctively. He brought one fist up to cover his already damaged face and swung g the other one in a wide roundhouse that connected directly with Bruce Wayne’s jaw. Wayne didn’t appear to notice but it gave Boston the moment he needed to collect himself.

He got to his feet and put both hands up in front of him. “Wayne, you don’t really want to do this now…” he tried gently as he could. But Wayne kept coming.

Chaos reigned around them. Hordes of people were rushing for the exit. Parents holding screaming children, husbands ushering their weeping wives away from the bloody scene and individuals who were simply in a state a panic were all pushing in the same direction. Members of the Hills Bros. Circus were attempting to either reach their boss to rescue him from the raving lunatic who was attacking him or the young acrobat who had fallen. Alfred was fighting his way through the crowd not knowing which of his masters he was going to but driven by instinct to get to one of them.

Dick Grayson, dying but not yet dead slowly opened his eyes.

He saw Bruce struggling with a man who had the face of death. His fading mind did not recognize Boston Brand or remember Deadman. He wondered dimly if Death had come for him but he was not afraid. His confidence in Bruce held fast even as his body was shutting down. 

Somehow Bruce detected a slight movement from the floor. With a cry he fell to his knees beside the body, not allowing himself to hope.

Boston wiped the blood from his nose on the sleeve of his costume. He began rounding up his people trying to quell the storm that had so suddenly descended upon them. The horrors of this night would haunt him for a long time to come but at least right now he had his circus to take care of.

Bruce and Dick looked into each other’s eyes. Dick tried to smile but the darkness was rolling over him like the tide. The last that he knew was that death was gone and he was in his guardian’s arms, safe and loved as he drifted away.

Dick Grayson had passed on.

Bruce Wayne was not so lucky. He was still alive.

His head was bowed. He did not feel Alfred’s hands on his shoulders. He didn’t even hear the anguished cry that was torn from his own lips when he felt the last breath and then no more.  
Bruce Wayne gathered his boy to him and cried like his heart was broken.  
* * *

The black tide went back out as Nightwing sat up and opened his eyes.

“Whoa,” he said taking in his surroundings.

He was sitting on some kind of a rock suspended in space not unlike the trapeze platform. There was one big difference though. Nightwing couldn’t make out any support structures holding it up. He was sitting on a rock floating in space. All around him odd glittery stars hung in a twilight emptiness that went on endlessly in all directions.

“Where the fuck am I?” he wondered aloud.

“You are here with me. In the infinite,” a female voice answered startling him.

Nightwing was on his feet in an instant. A second ago he had been alone and now he was face to face with a beautiful if strange looking woman. Her long black hair and purple sari floated around her as if she were lying in a pool of water. Her teal skin seemed to twinkle in time with the stars around them. She narrowed her golden eyes as she looked Nightwing up and down.

“You are not Boston Brand,” she said with a strange look. Her facial muscles couldn’t seem to figure out how to look surprised. As if she had forgotten how.

“Uh…no but I totally know where he’s staying if you want me to go get him for you,” Dick said giving her his most charming smile. It didn’t work. 

“I am the goddess Rama Kushna. She who brings balance,” she said as though she were trying to start over. “You are not Boston Brand!”

“Riiight. That part I know but it would help if you could tell me where I am. See the last thing I remember is having some dream where Bruce was fighting a duel with death like for my honor or something ,” he smirked well aware that the humor was a defense mechanism but unable to help himself,” and before that everything is kinda a bla-…” Suddenly several images flashed through Dick’s mind. The trapeze, the hook, the fall…

“Aw shit, lady,” he said looking up at the goddess who had started to levitate. “Am I…Am I dead?”  
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